


We can have this too

by Mix Stitch (Synph)



Series: DC ABO Series [3]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Dating, F/F, Flirting, Friends to Lovers, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Messy, Minor Character(s), Not Actually Unrequited Love, Off-screen Relationship(s), Overprotective, Partners to Lovers, Resolved Sexual Tension, Scent Marking, Weird Biology, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synph/pseuds/Mix%20Stitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all starts with Jason crashing onto Tim's balcony in the middle of the night. A tentative friendship becomes something more as both Tim and Jason dance around the idea that maybe, just maybe, they can be friends and lovers too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta Credit** : Fleetsparrow
> 
>  **Rating Notes** : Parts 1-3 are Teen, Part 4 is Explicit for the sex scene
> 
> This commission was written for tumblr user stevebottoms/Aimee who got me back into JayTim with a vengeance. It's um… it's a hefty story because once I started writing, I literally couldn't stop because I knew that the last part would be something specific and that was already in my head, but the journey kept wobbling a bit. I wanted to show a bit of the lead-in to Jason and Tim's dynamic in the other two stories in this series, how they kind of shifted from the almost-friendship that they had before diving into the relationship that they have in my series (but with the slightly complex addition of A/B/O dynamics). 
> 
> To Aimee: You rock! Thank you so much for your patience while I went above and beyond to write this story! I absolutely love writing for you and you give me some great JayTim feels! :D

Most nights, Tim Drake spends his time out on patrol.

Six nights on and one night off, that's how it's supposed to be. Even with Bruce and the rest of their makeshift family carving Gotham City up to make patrols easier, there's still too much to do for any one of them to take more than a few hours off every night and that one, rare night off. Even on Tim's nights off, he usually spends the time working on current and cold cases in front of the television until he falls asleep. The only time that Tim ever actually takes the night off and then stays away from his files are the few nights a year when his heat hits and that is matter of circumstance more than anything.

But for once, Tim wants the relaxation. It's been a long week and Tim wants to curl up in front of the television in a blanket nest and eat his weight in takeout until he falls asleep.

So of course someone chooses to crash into Tim's balcony the second that he goes to take his blankets out the dryer. Of course. Because this is Gotham and there's no such thing as a quiet night at home if he is one of the city's defenders.

"My apartment _would_ get broken into on the one night I decide to take it easy," Tim mutters to himself.

He's… tense.

Not necessarily angry yet or spoiling for a fight because of this invasion of his privacy, but the night can change.

Tim slips a finger underneath one of the shelves in his laundry room and pulls out a collapsible baton that Dick had given him for a housewarming gift a few months before. It's not as sturdy as the staff that Tim usually uses when on patrol but it should be enough to take out any would-be burglar. Tim stuffs the collapsed baton into the pocket of his shorts and then inhales sharply, mind already wondering who or what could be on his balcony.

Halfway across the living room, Tim takes out the baton and extends it to its full size.

Just in case.

***

Tim isn't expecting to see Jason sitting on his balcony with blood pouring from his nose and his helmet nowhere in sight.

The baton drops to the floor with a clatter and Tim tries to yank open the sliding door several times before he remembers that the door is locked. Apparently, Tim doesn't work quite as well under pressure and panic as he'd like to think he does. Eventually though, Tim does get the door open. He moves to Jason's side and then crouches down so that he can sling one of Jason's long arms around his shoulders.

"What the hell happened to you, man?" Tim asks. He can't help it. "What are you even doing on this side of Gotham?"

Jason shakes his head. "Not safe," he mutters, a slurring note to his voice that makes Tim worry.

"What's not safe?" Tim asks. "Is something coming after you?"

Shaking his head again, Jason murmurs in the negative right next to Tim's ear. "Not safe to sleep," he says. "I hit my head. Don't think I have a concussion but I don't want to be wrong." He tries to straighten is spine but then nearly topples over, bending as his free hand goes to his stomach in a way that causes Tim to think that something else is not right with Jason.

"Don't tell me you got shot," Tim says, his voice sharp.

"I was wearing my vest," Jason replies, acting as if that even matters. "And I didn't get shot – I fell. Big difference."

It takes every ounce of Tim's strength to keep from just dropping Jason right then and there. "You were going to let me think that you got _shot_ ," he blurts out, startled into shouting. "As it stands, I still don't understand why you came to me instead of going to the hospital. What – Why?"

As Tim helps Jason over to the couch, he tries to figure out what's going on in Jason's head. Sure, their respective shares of Gotham City are side by side. They've worked together before and they'll do it again. Hell, this isn't even the first time that Tim has patched Jason up after a mission went wrong. What's different – what makes this night different from any of the others is that this is the very first time that Jason has come _here_ for help.

Why?

Why now?

One glance at Jason tells Tim that this isn't the time for questioning. That can wait until Jason's face isn't covered in blood and he doesn't look as if he's minutes away from passing out. Blowing out his breath in a sigh, Tim decides to put his curiosity away for now. He eases Jason down on the couch, putting a pillow underneath Jason's head to keep him from lying flat on the cushions.

"Don't move," Tim tells Jason in a stern voice. "I need to get the first aid kit and see about putting you back together. If you fall off of the couch though, I'm leaving you there."

Tim walks away before he can hear what Jason's response is, finding enough amusement in the situation to grin when Jason grunts something in a grouchy tone.

If Jason can get annoyed with Tim, it's a good sign. He'll be fine.

The first aid kit – the good one – is in the back of Tim's closet buried under clutter that he really needs to clean up or throw away. This kit is his own design, a carryall with everything that an injury-prone omega that does double duty as a vigilante could need. It's thorough and right now, that's exactly what Tim needs.

He does wish though that it didn't weigh a _ton_ (or at least that he had remembered to put wheels on the damn thing back in the design phase), but he manages to get it back to Jason's side without much of an issue. Only minutes have passed, mere moments really, but Jason's features are slack with the lax softness of rest and Tim really doesn't want to wake him.

But – he _has_ to. With a hit to the head and all of that blood, to do anything else would just be irresponsible.

Tim is gentle about it, so gentle with the glancing touch that he delivers to Jason's arm. The thing about vigilantes and alphas and alphas that _are_ vigilantes is that they never wake up like normal people. There's no slow pull into wakefulness. No dazed confusion. No. All of the alphas that Tim knows have the most ridiculous reflexes when it comes to waking up and Tim is expecting Jason to be one of them.

"What – Tim?" Jason's eyes slide open slowly, unfocused at first before he blinks twice and a little recognition returns to their green-blue depths. "I made it to your apartment?"

Tim nods once, honestly taken aback at the way that Jason merely stretches out against the couch until his back cracks.

"Yeah," Tim says for lack of anything else to say. "You landed on my balcony all covered in blood and –" Tim pauses. "What _happened_ to you?"

Jason shrugs. "Got into it with some assholes who were harassing a waitress on her way home. Took most of 'em out but when I went to leave, one of them hit me with a few bricks." Jason's mouth twists with a sneer. "I fought back and I'm pretty sure I kicked his ass, but the next thing I know I'm on your couch."

That's not good.

At all.

For all that swinging through the city _becomes_ intuitive after a while, it isn't something that anyone should do with an injury. And for someone like Jason who Tim _knows_ prefers to stick to the ground? It's a terrible idea.

"I don't even you how you made it here in one piece," Tim snaps at Jason as anger and more than a little bit of fear steals into his voice. "You could've killed yourself before you even managed to get halfway here. What were you thinking?"

Instead of answering Tim, Jason growls at him. It's not the most threatening sound that Tim has heard coming from anyone (alpha or otherwise), but to hear it from _Jason_ –

It's enough to briefly stun him into silence.

"I don't _know_ how I got here," Jason says as Tim sits and stares at him. "I just know that I wanted to get somewhere safe and I guess – you were close." Jason doesn't say what Tim is expecting and he doesn't apologize for the growl, but he does sort of smile at Tim and the first aid kit that he's still holding despite its weight. "I'm guessing that I made a good choice?"

Tim rolls his eyes. "Well it's not like I left you on my balcony…"

"Good point," Jason says. He tilts his head back against the arm of the couch and then yawns, mouth falling open. "Geez – I'm so tired."

It's such an easy way to be, so very much like Jason who can get comfortable almost anywhere, that Tim has to smile.

Tim brushes Jason's hair back from his forehead, peering at the jagged cut that crosses the skin there. As far as these things go, it isn't a very big head wound. Jason might have a concussion, but at least he won't need stitches or a stay in Leslie Thompkin's clinic.

"It's not so bad," Tim says, gently touching a blood free spot of skin at Jason's temple so that the other man will turn his head to the side. "I'll need to disinfect it of course and then bandage it, but I think this time you'll just get away with nothing more serious than a couple of butterfly bandages."

Jason's eyelids lift and he fixes Tim with a surprisingly steady stare. "You're good at takin' care of people," Jason says, his voice heavy with something that Tim can't quite bring himself to analyze. He licks his lips. "An' you smell the best. It's ridiculous –" Jason cuts himself off at that, cheeks deepening with a faint reddish hue.

Shaking his head while trying to ignore the laughter that wants to come, Tim eventually manages to reply.

"It's nothing. It's –" Tim pauses, caught between claiming that the desire to make sure that Jason is alright ties into his nature as a omega and wanting to admit that Jason is one of the only people that Tim would even consider taking care of like this. No matter how much he wants to speak his mind, he can't just blurt out that there aren't many people that he's tender with.

That would be weird.

Instead, Tim reaches for a wipe and proceeds to clean Jason's forehead. He works in silence for as long as he can, pretending that he doesn't notice Jason's green-blue eyes following his every move or the way that Jason's nostrils flare as if he's savoring Tim's scent. Slower than he probably should, Tim wipes away all of the blood from what appears to be a very shallow cut.

"Head wounds tend to bleed a lot," Tim says, speaking almost absently as he reaches back into the kit for a bandage. His thumb skids over Jason's skin, touching the curve of one eyebrow lightly as he hesitates. "You should be fine, but I think I'll let you sleep on the bed."

Jason frowns. His thin, chapped lips turn down as he takes in Tim's face with bleary eyes.

"Where'll you sleep?" Jason asks.

His question comes out more like a demand, but Tim laughs.

"The couch pulls out into a bed," he says after he manages to silence his quiet laughter. "I usually sleep out here on my days off anyway. I don't mind." He tugs one of the bigger bandages out of the kit and then settles back, pulling away from Jason's skin and then yanking the bandage open. "I just feel… safer out here. You know?"

Part of it is because Tim's been a vigilante since he was like _twelve_. That kind of paranoia doesn't go away easily. Some of it is because Tim is an omega and well… he reads the news.

But most of it is because even after a year in this apartment, he still doesn't feel like it's his. It still doesn't feel like home. So he sleeps on the couch with his takeout and the television turned down low because he's still not comfortable.

Having Jason here though…

It could help.

Jason grunts as Tim presses the bandage to his head, eyes narrowing as he stares at Tim.

"It's your bed," he mutters, gaze skittering to the side as if he suddenly doesn't want to look at Tim for too long. He winces, a tiny jerk of his broad shoulders when Tim presses just a little too hard on his head, and then his eyelids slide shut. "You should sleep in it."

Tim shakes his head. "I don't want to --" He pauses. "It would make me feel better if you slept in the bed tonight. If you really feel bad, you can make it up to me the next time I get injured near you."

In his own way, Tim understands. He smiles, small and fleeting, before he turns his attention to other matters. Other areas like Jason's stomach and the nasty bruise that Tim suspects is hidden underneath his shirt and bulletproof vest.

"Let's get your stomach looked at and then I'll get you set up in bed," Tim says as he tugs at the zipper of Jason's jacket.

"I'm fine," Jason insists.

"Yeah," Tim fires back with a bit of bite to his voice. "That's why you're here on my couch, right? You're _fine_. Just let me see how bad the bruising is because there's only so much that I can do from here."

Jason huffs. "Fine," he says in a gruff tone.

Tim grins, not bothering to hide how pleased he is that he's _won_.

***

The next morning, Tim wakes up in his own bed.

Tucked in amidst more sheets and blankets than he usually sleeps in, Tim doesn't actually recognize his surroundings at first. Bleary-eyed from exhaustion, the first thing that Tim thinks when he takes in the way that Jason's thick scent lingers on every sheet around him, is that he's going to have some explaining to do when he gets up.

Slowly though, Tim wakes up. He's not as alert as he usually is after a couple cups of coffee, but it's enough that he recognizes his own bedroom. When Tim sits up, he notices a piece of paper torn from the notebook that he keeps on the dining room table for his grocery lists.

"He left me a _note_ ," Tim breathes, fingers stroking over Jason's spiky handwriting as he reads it.

Thanks for the assist T

Will make it up to you soon.

Quit sleeping on that couch.

It's bad for your back.

J

Well that certainly explains the blanket nest.

Jason might have a point about the couch, Tim thinks as he swings his legs over the nearest side of the bed and then stretches until his back cracks and his toes curl into the thick grey carpet. For once, Tim's back doesn't feel like a tightly coiled spring about to snap. He actually feels like he could flex and not wind up crying out in pain. The difference is nice.

Tim's phone chirps from somewhere in the middle of the blanket nest, the sound muffled by the press of all that fabric. It's the generic ringtone for his phone, the one that goes off when someone who isn't in Tim's contacts sends him a message, but Tim decides against ignoring it for a change. He rummages through the blanket nest for a few hasty seconds, grabbing his phone just before the person calling him hangs up.

"Hello," Tim says, a little louder than he probably should be.

Jason (because of _course_ it'd be Jason) laughs.

"It's good to see that you're awake," Jason says, his voice a low murmur that comes through clearly on Tim's end. "You didn't even wake up when I moved you to the bed."

Tim feels his face warm with a blush that (thankfully) Jason isn't around to see. "I'm not usually a heavy sleeper," Tim confesses.

"Yeah, I feel you," Jason says. It's nice that Tim doesn't have to explain things. Jason probably understands what it's like, not feeling safe enough to sleep through the night even in your own safe house. Abruptly though, Jason changes the subject. "You know, you don't really have much food in your house."

"Excuse me?"

"I was going to make you breakfast before I left," Jason says as if that makes any sense. "But the only thing in your fridge is milk that might be older than Damian and an empty carton of eggs. No wonder you eat so much takeout."

Affronted and a little hurt by Jason's words, Tim _tries_ to defend himself.

"I don't like cooking," Tim says with a simmering snap to his voice. "And I'm barely home during the week. There's no point in trying to keep my fridge stocked when I don't cook." Huffing, Tim shifts so that he's a bit more comfortable on the bed. "There's nothing wrong with eating takeout all the time."

Jason snorts a laugh out on his end of the phone. "I know," he says, "That's why I set up a delivery for you."

"What kind of delivery?" Tim asks, just suspicious enough that it shows in his voice.

At first, Jason doesn't answer Tim's question. "Today's one of your days off right," he asks. "No plans to leave the house or anything like that?"

Tim grits his teeth, hesitant to admit that Jason is right and Tim's plans are pathetic.

"I'm considering it," Tim mutters eventually. "Like you pointed out: I don't have a lot of food in my house."

"That's perfect," Jason says, sounding so darn _happy_ that Tim actually pulls the phone away from his ear and stares down at it. By the time that he picks it back up again, he only catches the end of Jason's next sentence. "– the delivery will be there in an hour or so."

"Excuse me," Tim blurts out. "What delivery?"

Tim can practically hear Jason rolling his eyes. "It's a food delivery," Jason says with a drawling note to his voice. "Three meals and a couple of snacks from a place I tend to order from when I don't feel like cooking. They do good comfort food and they're willing to deliver in Gotham."

"Okay, but _why_?" Tim asks. "Is this – is it some kind of alpha thing?"

Jason snorts inelegantly in Tim's ear. "Hell no," he says. "But you patched me up and I couldn't even make you breakfast to thank you. Trust me, this is the least that I could do to thank you." Jason pauses. "You're going to accept the delivery, right?"

Tim –

He should probably tell Jason to cancel the order outright. He's been taking care of himself for longer than most people have at his age and he _can_ cook. Sort of. He just… doesn't. And besides, he knows better. No matter what Jason says, Tim _knows_ alphas. He knows Bruce and Kon and Cassie. He knows that they tend to feed omegas that they're close to, focusing that single-minded determination to protect and comfort on fattening up any omega that they're fond of. That they _like_.

Jason has never been one of those alphas. He's never treated Tim as anything other than an ally and friend. The food thing –

That's a little weird.

And, if Tim is going to be honest with himself, it's more than a little bit thrilling.

"Jason –" Tim starts to say. Then his stomach growls. Loudly. His head drops down until the point of his chin hits his collarbone. "Fine. I'll take the food. But we're going to talk about this later."

Tim likes free food as much as the next college student, but food from alphas tends to come with certain expectations. Mostly, for his behavior. Sure, Jason (like many of the alphas that Tim is close to) isn't like the average, but Tim hasn't gotten this far by being naïve.

There's a sudden, sullen silence on Jason's end of the phone.

For a moment, Tim finds himself genuinely worried that he's hurt Jason's feelings. As he opens his mouth to apologize or even change the subject, Jason comes back on –

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?"

Tim starts to shrug and then remembers that Jason can't see the gesture.

"It's not you," he admits. "It's just –" The whole alpha thing. The fact that Jason has never been _this_ nice to him before. The way that it makes Tim feel flushed as if his skin is too warm. "Next time you crash onto my balcony, maybe you could stay the whole night."

"I left you a note," Jason retorts, his tone plainly petulant.

Tim snorts, shaking his head. "It doesn't count. I wanted to check on you before you left and you didn't exactly mention your head injury in the note."

"Next time," Jason says. "I'll do better next time." He pauses again and in the background, Tim can hear the faint honking of car horns. "Speaking of next times, when's your next night off? There's a movie I want to see and there's no way in hell I'm seeing it by myself."

Out of the blue, Jason's comment makes Tim smile.

"That depends," Tim says, shifting around in order to get comfortable in his blanket nest. "What kind of movie is it?"

Jason hesitates a little longer than what's probably necessary.

"Jason –"

"Alright fine, it's a horror movie," Jason admits. "With ghosts."

Tim feels his nose wrinkle with a frown. "And you're afraid of ghosts?"

"Who wouldn't be," Jason mutters. It's not _quite_ a confession, but it's enough to make Tim snicker into the palm of his hand. "So will you see it with me or not?"

"I guess I could manage to rearrange my schedule for you," Tim says, his tone light and teasing.


	2. Chapter 2

One night out with Jason turns into another.

And another.

And another until Tim sees Jason on their nights off as well as the nights that they have patrol in their separate sectors of Gotham. Sometimes they grab a meal together before patrol. Other times, they sit around in Tim's living room watching movies and making rude comments as Tim goes through paperwork for his company's lab. More often than not though, their nights end with Jason dropping down beside Tim as he finishes up with whatever case he's been working on.

Food is frequently the focus of their time together. Despite all of Tim's misgivings about letting an alpha feed him on a regular basis, he has to admit that Jason definitely has good taste when it comes to what's good to eat in Gotham.

At first, it's just platonic. Mostly platonic, anyway, with an edge of something that Tim doesn't know how to parse. He sees it though. It's in the way that Jason's gaze lingers on Tim's mouth when they're slurping down ramen or how Tim finds himself touching Jason a lot more often, thumping the side of his helmet or squeezing him a little tighter when they're riding on his bike.

It isn't because of their respective statuses as alpha and omega.

Tim has been around plenty of alphas in his time as a superhero and none of them ever made him feel like his head was fuzzy and filled with cotton. None of them ever made him _consider_ throwing caution to the wind. And none of them, none of the alphas that he's known or dated have ever made him want what Bruce and Dick have found with one another. None of them have ever made him feel like he wants more of the faint flirtation or the possibility of _more_.

But with Jason, with seeing him almost every single day for several weeks in a row until they start to smell like one another and Tim actually looks forward to Jason having his back on a regular basis –

Tim finds himself wanting more of those feelings.

***

Tim's phone vibrates on top of his dresser at the same time that he gets out of the shower one muggy Tuesday afternoon a few weeks after that first close encounter with Jason. He knows without looking that it's Jason calling him, and he reaches out and swipes a fingertip over the screen.

"Yes, Jason," Tim says, leaning against his dresser and making no effort whatsoever to hide the goofy smile that settles on his face. After all, he's the only one in his apartment and there's no way that Jason'd be able to see him. "I'm going to head out to your place in a minute. Don't worry, I didn't forget that we're marathoning Godzilla movies tonight."

Jason snorts.

"Like I'd _let_ you forget," he says. "But there's been a change of plans. There's a new restaurant opening up in Metropolis that sounds cool enough to make the trip."

"Let me guess," Tim says, "You want me to meet you there instead? I'm not driving all the way up to Metropolis for you –"

"Nah," Jason says in a matter of fact tone. "We're taking my bike to the train station and then the train to Metropolis. _Duh_." He sounds so serious that Tim bites back the laughter he wants to release. "Now, are you going to come let me in or do I have to stand out in front of your door and scare all of your neighbors?"

Tim shakes his head with mock-exasperation.

"I don't _have_ any neighbors on this floor," he points out with a roll of his eyes that Jason can't see either. "And besides, I just got out of the shower."

Jason presses. "You can just let me in and go right back to getting dressed," he says in a wheedling, almost whining tone of voice. "I promise I won't even touch anything."

Already moving towards the door, Tim takes the time to get one last barb in. "Oh, the way you didn't touch my fish and I woke up to find them all floating upside down?"

"Hey," Jason says, sounding affronted. Soon, he starts talking loud enough that Tim can hear him clearly as he walks up to the front door of his apartment. "I told you that I have no idea how that –" He pauses when Tim pulls open the front door, eyes going wide when he takes in the fact that Tim really must've just left the shower. "Oh. Tim. You're --"

Feeling his nose scrunch up with a frown, Tim takes a step back into his apartment. Suddenly, he feels very aware of the fact that he's half-dressed with only a towel tied around his waist while Jason stands there and just… _looks_ at him.

"Come in," Tim says. "Do you want something to drink? Or a snack? It won't take me long to get ready but I don't want you to sit here with nothing to do." Tim's hands clench at his side. He's babbling and he knows it, but he just can't _stop_.

Jason shakes his head, still looking a little shell-shocked as he squeezes past Tim in the tiny entryway.

"It's cool," Jason says, his voice coming out in a raspy murmur. "I don't mind waiting."

Tim can't help breathing Jason in. After all the time they spend together, Jason's scent isn't just familiar. It's a little bit like Tim's own. That doesn't mean that Tim doesn't take every chance that he gets to sniff Jason's skin or his hair when they're pressed together on Jason's bike. It just means that the thrill Tim gets from it is a little bit more –

Shuddering, Tim forces himself to pay attention and pretend that he's not considering saying – or _doing_ – something that could get him into a ton of trouble. He hitches the towel up a little and then nods his head, showing that he understands what Jason is saying before he darts out of the entry way and down the hallway that leads to his bedroom.

Once the door slams shut behind him, Tim presses his damp back against the cold wood in an attempt to shock himself out of the thoughts that'd started churning in his head from the moment that he'd opened the door to see Jason standing there looking so hot and smelling so _good_.

Taller than Tim has any hope of being and with his black hair shaved at the sides and drawing attention to the fact that he has the most perfect jawline in the multiverse, Jason is hot. Everyone knows that. It's something that's just… _a thing_.

But there's such a difference between talking about how hot Jason is while having drinks with Stephanie and Cassandra and _realizing_ that the subject of Tim's idle fantasies is here in his home. Alone with him. Tim feels his face warm with a blush and he slaps his hands to his face as if that's going to help him stop the heat in his face that only strengthens when he remembers the look of hunger that he'd seen on Jason's face.

It'd been brief, just a moment.

But –

Maybe --

Tim shouldn't read that much into things. Aside from the food thing, Jason hasn't really shown much of a sign that he thinks of Tim as more than a friend. Not until that look and Tim knows better than to assume that it'll lead to anything else.

"I should get dressed," Tim mutters to himself, so fed up with himself that he doesn't even bother to make sure that the bedroom door is locked before he drops his towel and heads for the dresser. At least trying to find an outfit to wear will distract him.

Should distract him, Tim realizes slowly because he's still going to be alone with Jason and his thoughts for the rest of the night.

***

By the time that Tim and Jason make it to the train station, the sun is burning hot in the sky. Tim actually lets out a sigh of relief when he sinks into the window seat in the air-conditioned section of the train and presses his cheek to the glass.

His eyes fall shut, but they don't stay that way for very long. At the first touch of something frighteningly cold to the bend of his right arm, Tim jolts in his seat and bangs his elbow against the armrest.

"What –" Tim's snarl cuts out when he notices the can of _Zesti_ that Jason has dangling from the loose circle of his fingers. "That's for me?"

Jason shrugs.

"You looked hot," he says. "I don't want you passing out before we even make it to Metropolis. So drink the soda and shut up." There's no bite to Jason's words at all though and he grins at Tim before dropping down to sit in the seat beside him, stretching out until his arm brushes Tim's arm and their knees touch.

Tim bites at his bottom lip, suddenly aware of how close he and Jason are. This part of the train is almost empty and there's no one sitting across from them in their section of four seats. Aside from a businessman with his headphones on and a young couple sitting in the very back of the car, there's no one there.

Breathing in slowly through his mouth, Tim tries to focus on something aside from Jason's nearness and his scent. He tries to distract himself with the view through the window as the train picks up speed and with his phone when he remembers that it's fully charged for once. He tries to distract himself with thinking about cold cases that he's been working on and even on the taste of the soda when he finally decides to crack it open and take a sip.

None of that works.

Eventually, Tim gives up, sighing and then slumping back in his seat. Beside him, Jason is busy reading something on a tablet that's only a tiny bit larger than Tim's cellphone, gaze focused on the screen with such intent that Tim actually wants to know what he's reading. As far as Tim knows, Jason hasn't looked up at any point in the past few minutes. The thought shouldn't make Tim feel as antsy as it does.

Tim nudges Jason once. Gentle.

Or well -- as gently as one can nudge someone with an elbow to the side.

Jason doesn't jerk in his seat. Not the way that Tim would in the same position. He turns off the tablet and then turns to Tim with an expectant look on his face.

"What's up, Tim?"

Tim kind of shrugs. "It's just -- I -- What's so important about this restaurant?" That's been eating at Tim for a while now. Sure, he and Jason have gone out to Bludhaven to hunt down what were supposed to be the best chili dogs on the East Coast, but that's Bludhaven. While there's not a lot to love about Bludhaven, it's only a short train ride from Gotham. Heading hours away to Metropolis for food though? That's just weird.

"I heard about it from a friend of a friend and you know me," Jason says, "I'm always up for a challenge."

The thing about it -- the one problem about them getting so close so quickly -- Tim is hyper-focused on Jason's voice.

So he hears a little catch in Jason's voice when he speaks.

"What's the real reason?" Tim asks, immediately hating the way that his voice comes out a little higher-pitched than usual. He crosses his arms over his chest, trying and failing at pretending that he's not frustrated. "You don't just decide to take a train ride to another city just so we can get food. What's going on?"

At first, Tim is pretty sure that Jason won't answer. There's a set to his wide mouth, a tugging frown that makes him look sullen. But then --

When Jason tells Tim that, "You're always so tense when we go out in Gotham," it's actually the last thing that Tim expects to hear.

"Excuse me?"

"You're always looking out for the paparazzi when we go out to eat and you're so distant sometimes," Jason says. He looks down at his lap. "I -- I want you to enjoy the time we spend together. You can't do that back home where you're always looking for someone to take a picture of you." A flush starts to darken Jason's cheekbones. "And besides -- I wanted to ask you out. On a real date."

Tim doesn't know how to feel.

"Shouldn't you ask me out _before_ we go on the date," he says, sounding snappish to his own ears. "This is a lot of work to go through in order for something you're not even sure of. I could tell you no or I could get off at the next stop." Tim shakes his head. "Why didn't you just _ask_ me?"

Tim can't remember the last time that Jason looked this helpless.

"I -- I don't know --" Jason's gaze grows shuttered. "You're not like other omegas, you know?"

Tim's heard _that_ before.

Usually, it's _not_ a compliment.

With Jason, Tim isn't sure what to think of it.

"You're -- you're so -- _argh_!"

Tim jumps to his feet and starts to push past Jason. He needs to get out into the aisle and he needs to pace in order to work off some of the anxious energy suffusing his limbs. Jason's fingers curling around his right wrist stops him dead in his tracks just as his leg knocks into the side of Jason's knee when he attempts to pass. The press of Jason's fingertips is loose, almost gentle, but Tim still freezes. Glancing down, he looks into Jason's eyes, at the conflict he sees there.

"Tell me why," Tim says.

Jason shakes his head, a rueful smile on his lips. "You're smart and you're hot. You patched me up when I was on your couch and you didn't even say anything to the big guy. And your scent --" Jason hesitates for a second. "You smell so good that sometimes, I can't even think about anything other than how much I want to just breathe you in."

Tim isn't moved. In fact, he's a little bit annoyed. "And that's why you didn't want to ask me out," he says with disbelief heavy in his voice. "Because I'm _hot_." It hurts. A lot. He doesn't even bother trying to hide that from Jason. "That's just --"

"That's not it," Jason says. "We just -- we only _just_ started hanging out like this. I didn't want to fuck anything up by asking you out and risking you turning me down. I know that you've shot down other alphas for less and I just --" Jason's head drops, hanging just low enough that his chin touches his chest and all Tim can see of him is his hair. "I wanted a little more time with you before I fucked up. And honestly – I kinda wanted you to ask me out first."

Tim can feel the beginnings of a headache brewing and it sucks. He should be happy that Jason likes him -- that Jason _wants_ him. Instead, he's just worried and stressed out.

"You could've just asked me out," Tim says, his own voice quiet. He reaches out, first touching Jason's shoulder and then the shaved back of his head when he doesn't move. That last touch gets him a good look at Jason's eyes and Tim feels that pang of pain in his chest lessen just a little. He decides then, that maybe he can confess a little bit too. "Stephanie, Cass, and I talk about you all the time. I think -- I _know_ that if you asked me to go out with you, even all the way in Metropolis, I'd have said yes."

Still with his hand cupping Jason's head and with the stubble of his hair tickling his palm, Tim musters a smile for Jason.

"I don't date alphas, not usually," Tim says quietly. "I've had... bad experiences before and so I tend to stay away from alphas more often than not. But then Bruce and Dick wound up mated and I -- I just started thinking that trying to get what they have wouldn't be so bad." Tim's mouth feels as dry as the desert, but he holds Jason's gaze instead of pulling away and going for the soda still on his armrest. "And I -- I know I've liked hanging out with you, but I didn't think that we were anything more than friends. I didn't even think that you wanted me that way."

That's all of it.

Well... all of what Tim is willing to confess in public. He offers Jason a smile that feels like it's about to fracture and then, reluctantly pulls back from Jason's side.

"Next time," Tim says. "Just ask me out. Okay?"

Jason is quick to nod and he does so while smiling. "Okay!"

Tim can't help the urge to smile back at him. "Good," he says, "Now tell me more about the restaurant. There _has_ to be something about it that made it worth the trip because our first real date can't be something terrible."

***

Dinner is…

Well, it happens.

By the time that they get back to Gotham, Tim doesn't remember much about the food or the restaurant. All he can remember are the touches. How it felt to have Jason pressed up against his side and stroking a hand over his arm when the waiter was on the other side of the restaurant. Jason doesn't do much, doesn't take many liberties at all, but he isn't shy about sitting close to Tim or nuzzling the side of Tim's head as they talk.

It's nice. More intimacy than Tim has had from an alpha in _ages_ , but with an understated tone to it that makes Tim crave more. At the end of their date, Tim's senses are on full alert and his skin feels tight and sensitive. Normally, Tim only feels like that when he's about to topple headfirst into his heat but it's too soon for that.

The ride from the train station, with Tim pressed up against Jason's broad back as they zip through Gotham City traffic, is almost torture. Even with the wind whipping by their faces and the visor on his helmet tucked low, Tim can't smell anything else but Jason's scent.

It makes his mouth water.

Tim exhales slowly and clutches Jason's middle a little harder than he probably should. This is new. Different. Scary in a way that swinging through Gotham on cables and going up against costumed villains _isn't_.

How is it that Tim's world is so vastly different from how it was only a few hours ago? A few hours ago, Tim was busy pining and preparing for a night of pretending that he and Jason were just friends. A few hours ago, he'd thought that Jason only saw him as a cool but otherwise off-limits omega who he hung out with every once in a while.

And now?

Now –

Tim isn't sure what things with Jason will become, but he has hope.

And that's more than he had this afternoon.

Jason slows his bike down, coming to a stop in one of the parking spots in front of Tim's building. Aside from pulling off his own helmet and accepting Tim's, Jason doesn't budge when Tim gets off of the bike to stand on the sidewalk.

"You're not coming up?" Tim hates the needy note to his voice, but the brightness of Jason's answering smile makes him flush.

Shaking his head, Jason says, "Not this time, Tim. We have to patrol tonight and if I go up there with you, B'll kill us for being late."

There's heat in Jason voice.

 _That_ Tim recognizes.

It's that heat and the desire on Jason's face that makes Tim take a step forward.

"Since you're not walking me up to my apartment," Tim says, trying to sound braver than he feels as Jason's hands settle on his waist. When Jason shifts, he tugs Tim closer and closer until Tim is standing next to the bike and his hands settle on Jason's shoulders. "Don't you think that you should at least kiss me goodnight?"

Tim licks his lips as he stares at Jason's smiling mouth.

A kiss is the least of what he wants from Jason, but the older alpha _does_ have a point. If the idea of a kiss alone is making Tim feel like dragging Jason off to bed and keeping him there for a few hours, the main act would probably take them off of Bruce's active duty roster for more than a night. The intensity of Tim's arousal makes sweat prickle along his spine as heat seems to coil in his stomach. Usually, Tim's body only reacts with slickness during his heats, but with Jason all but kissing close –

"Mm," Jason murmurs, his eyes fixed on Tim's mouth. "How is it that you smell even better than you did before?" All he has to do is tug once and then he's kissing Tim, their mouths fitting together like a finally finished puzzle. The kisses that they trade skip right over chaste and move to scorching, every flick of Jason's tongue threatening to make Tim melt in his arms.

By some miracle, Tim pulls away before he can do something _really_ embarrassing (like come in his pants or grind against the muscled length of Jason's strong right thigh). He brushes his fingers over his lips, unsurprised when he realizes that they feel sensitive and swollen to the touch.

"Jason, I –" Tim falters for a moment.

Jason's lips quirk up for a moment. "I know, Tim," he murmurs. "But I have to go." He reaches for Tim again, sitting up straight as he pulls Tim into an intense kiss that leaves them both panting. "We'll still meet up for breakfast though, right?"

Tim starts nodding almost before Jason finishes talking.

"Yeah," Tim blurts out. He has to laugh at himself a second later. "It's a date!"

Jason's answering smile is so honest and so sweet that Tim finds himself leaning down and brushing one last kiss over his mouth. It's the most chaste kiss that they've shared so far, but that doesn't mean that it lacks any heat. By the time that Tim pulls back, he's so hard that it hurts and his body practically _aches_ from being so close to Jason without getting any more of his touch.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Tim says once he's back on the curb and no longer in Jason's arms.

Nodding, Jason offers Tim another smile. "Have a safe patrol tonight."


	3. Chapter 3

Tim's phone wakes him up with a blare of sound and intense vibration that sends it skittering across his mattress.

When he rolls over to check the display, he frowns. Either something big has gone down or everyone that he knows has decided to text him at the same time. There's a moment where Tim actually considers ignoring his phone and flipping the blankets over his head, but then he balks. With his luck, his horrible bad luck at that, he knows that he'd wind up missing something big.

At first, when Tim reaches for his phone, he doesn't understand what everyone is texting him about. Most of the texts are just incoherent keysmashes and curse words.

Kon just sends him a text that says the word "DUDE" with several wide-eyed emojis taking up the rest of the message. Dick sends him a crying emoji and a selfie of himself giving Tim a thumbs up in the bathroom of Wayne Manor's master suite. From Stephanie, Tim gets a video message via WhatsUp. Sure, he's always happy to see Stephanie and Cass, but he seriously can't understand a thing that's going on or why they're so invested in congratulating him.

Maybe he's won the lottery.

Tim thumbs through dozens of messages, texts that range from positive images and gifs obviously from Yumblr to ones that congratulate him for finally settling down. Tim blinks at his phone.

"Settling down," Tim says as he frowns. "With _who_?"

As far as he knows, not even Stephanie should know about his new _thing_ with Jason. For one thing, they've only had the one kiss (or really, several kisses right after one another) and Tim hasn't even had the chance to figure out how he feels or what they're doing. When he'd gotten in from patrol at dawn, Tim barely had enough presence of mind to put his phone on the charger and take off his pants. So Steph _can't_ know anything. No one can.

The texts just keep coming.

From friends.

From very distant cousins.

From people he's worked with as CEO of Drake Industries or as Red Robin.

From fellow and former Titans.

They just don't stop. By the time that Tim feels like giving up and muting his phone, the only person that _hasn't_ texted him is Bruce and Tim doesn't even want to think about that for too long.

And after five minutes, Tim still has no idea what's going on.

When his phone rings and he sees Jason's name and the crappy-but-hilarious selfie that he's using for the alpha's icon, Tim doesn't hesitate. He answers the phone immediately.

"Do you have any idea what's going on?" Tim asks at the same time that Jason tells him to, "Open up. I'm outside."

That can't be good.

"Is there a problem?" Tim asks, voice hesitant as he slips out of bed. He makes it to the door almost before Jason has a chance to respond and as he opens the door, Jason only _just_ starts to talk. Face to face, Tim immediately notices that something is off. For one thing, Jason isn't meeting his eyes. For another, Jason is clutching a newspaper as if it's offended him.

Tim reaches for the paper. "Don't tell me that someone died –"

He knows better than to joke about that sort of thing, but still –

"Nah, it's okay," Jason says. "But yeah, you should probably check this out first." Rocking back on his heels as Tim unfolds the paper, Jason frowns. "Mind if I come in?"

Tim, busy with going over the paper, steps aside. "Yeah, sure."

Jason squeezes by. Over his shoulder, he says, "You might want to take another look at the front page."

A moment later when Tim flips the paper over, he nearly drops it. There in full color and taking up a significant chunk of space in the society pages is a grainy photograph of him and Jason from the night before. Capturing them right as Tim leans down to kiss Jason, the picture isn't really anything special. It's a definite breach of privacy though and someone in either Wayne Enterprises or Drake Industries' stable of lawyers will be dealing with this.

"Wayne Wards Caught Canoodling," Tim reads aloud. He grunts out a brief bark of laughter, rolling his eyes as he takes in the mediocre headline. "Who comes up with this crap?"

Jason shrugs. "It's probably some underpaid intern that isn't going to see a cent of what that story earns."

Tim feels his face scrunch up with his frown. "Hopefully, _no one_ will get anything from this. If we're lucky, Bruce already has his lawyers down at the Gazette putting the fear of lawsuit into them." He stares down at the picture. "It's not even very good. How did they know who we were?"

"Beats me," Jason says. "But it's good enough for everyone I know to text me with congratulations or threats telling me in detail how badly they'll hurt me if I break your heart." Jason shakes his head, a little half-smile flirting with the corners of his mouth. "Roy's been texting me about how jealous he is of me."

"Isn't Roy a beta?" Tim asks. "And you know – older than both of us?"

Shrugging again, Jason says, "You know Roy," as if that explains anything. And honestly, maybe it does.

"Did you – have you heard from Bruce yet?" Tim asks a moment later. He's still holding his phone so he waves it at Jason as if for emphasis. "Dick texted me a minute ago and so have Steph and Cass, but I haven't heard anything from him since last night.

Jason frowns. "No. It's radio silence on my end too." He pauses, frowning. "You don’t think that he's pissed at us, do you?"

"For _what_?" Tim asks. "It's not as if the paparazzi haven't caught him doing a lot more than kissing Dick. We didn't know the photographer was there and we were on our own time –" Tim's phone buzzes and he frowns down at it. "Crap!"

Jason's eyes get wide. "Is that Bruce?"

"Y-yeah," Tim says. He swipes right to answer the call and then lifts his phone to his ear despite all his misgivings. "Hey, Bruce! What's up?"

Seconds pass.

"I saw the photos in the _Gazette_ ," Bruce says, tone inscrutable.

Tim nearly drops his phone. "You did? Well – what'd you think?"

When Bruce answers Tim, there's a mild but obvious amusement in his voice.

"I think that the _Gazette_ will be issuing a retraction in tomorrow's paper," he says before pushing on to something that doesn't make Tim smile. "And that you and Jason will be at the Manor for lunch. Alfred's making your favorites."

For Tim, that means those tiny deep-dish lasagnas he saw on The Food Channel once and begged Alfred to make for him every single night he slept over at Bruce's home instead of his own. For Jason –

Tim pauses and then presses his phone to his shoulder to muffle the sound of his conversation.

"We're invited to lunch," he says, "Alfred's making meatloaf for you." How Jason can stomach meatloaf from anyone is beyond Tim, but it's Jason's favorite and as long as it means that Tim won't have to share _his_ food, he won't judge.

Jason's brow wrinkles. "Lunch," he mouths. The curve of his lips and the arch of his dark eyebrows shape the word into a question.

Tim manages a half-hearted shrug. "Maybe he'll yell at us then?"

When Tim picks up his phone again, Bruce launches back into the conversation as if there hadn't even been a break. "Dick wants me to let you know that he's mad that he had to hear about your relationship from the newspaper."

 _Dick_.

"Well it's new," Tim hedges. "Literally less than a day old. What was I supposed to do: tell him that Jason and I went on a date while we were on patrol?"

In the background on Bruce's end, Tim hears Dick shouting something that sounds like agreement. Dick's too far away for Tim to hear him clearly, but the sentiment carries over regardless. Tim rolls his eyes and then makes a face at Jason.

"We’ll be by there by one," Tim says, trying desperately to change the subject. "Now before I hang up, is there anything you want us to bring?"

Bruce doesn't hesitate. "Dessert," he says. "Something chocolate please."

"Good," Tim says. "I'm hanging up now."

Somehow, Tim manages to keep himself from flinging his phone at the couch once Bruce is no longer on the line. He stares at Jason, knowing that an unsettled, anxious look has settled on his face. "I don't think anyone's actually mad at us," he says. "I'm – I don't know how I feel about that."

Jason shakes his head. "As long as no one tries to give me the _talk_ , I'm good."

Tim shudders at the thought. "That couldn't –" He pauses. "They wouldn't –"

"See, you can't even defend them," Jason points out with an unrepentant grin on his face.

"Shut _up_!"

***

Tim can't remember the last time that the Manor seemed so forbidding.

As he walks up the stairs behind Jason, a chill prickles along his spine. Yes, Bruce and Dick don't _seem_ angry with them, but they aren't the only two people that'll be at lunch. Tim hesitates on the last step, watching Jason walk towards the massive front doors and then bang on them with the side of the hand that isn't holding Bruce's dessert.

Neither of them are dressed elegantly enough for lunch here.

Tim is in slacks and a pale green button up while Jason is wearing his favorite pair of blue jeans and a grey t-shirt underneath his leather jacket. They look like they're going to the mall or something, not visiting their family and about to settle in for the grilling of the lifetime.

"Jason," Tim says, raising his voice just a little.

Jason turns around. "Yeah?"

"We can always leave before someone answers the door," Tim says, trying not to sound as desperate as he feels. He tries to offer Jason a smile but he can feel when it falls flat. "We could be in the Haven in a few hours with all of that chocolate for ourselves."

"We could," Jason says easily, smiling as he walks back towards Tim. "Or we could go in and have a nice lunch on the big guy's dime and deal with everyone fussing over us for a few hours."

Tim frowns even harder, but then Jason leans in and kisses the expression right off of his face. Jason's mouth fits against Tim's own so well, every shift of his lips and his hips urging a response from Tim that's too sensual for where they are. Despite the fact that the front steps certainly has a camera aimed at them and therefore every eye in the manor is probably trained on them, all Tim can focus on is how it feels to be wrapped up in Jason's arms and kissed within an inch of his life.

"If you two are done…"

Tim and Jason jerk apart the moment that they hear Dick's cheerful voice. Glancing towards the door, neither of them is surprised to see Dick grinning at them with the sort of look that's typically reserved for pranks or as a precursor for hours of endless teasing.

Immediately though, Tim knows what they're in for.

"We brought Bruce truffles from that place you two like," Tim says in an attempt to change the subject. "There's enough for everyone to eat now and for you two to eat tonight." Mentioning, even obliquely, Dick and Bruce's relationship always has the capacity to go horribly wrong. If Tim's lucky, all that Dick will say is a genuinely pleased thanks.

If he's not –

Well, Dick's become the master of TMI in the years following Bruce's claim. Dick and Tim are close but there are really so many things that Tim has never _ever_ wanted to know about the older omega _or_ what he gets up to in bed.

Before Dick can say something thoroughly break Tim's brain and possibly put him off his lunch, Jason grabs for Tim's hand and entwines their fingers as they move to walk past Dick.

"You two are so cute together that it's obnoxious," Dick says with a smile on his face that is quickly shifting towards 'smug'. "I can't wait for everyone to see you guys!"

Jason flips Dick off with the hand still holding the gift bag.

"Yeah," Jason murmurs as he squeezes Tim's hand in reassurance when he picks up the anxiety flooding Tim's scent. "Damian and Steph told me how bad you and B got back in the day. Keep the teasing to a minimum unless you want me to return the favor."

Surprisingly, that works to distract Dick.

Dick frowns, almost bristling. "We were _not_ ," he hisses before he catches himself. "I'm going to have to talk to them about exaggerations –" Muttering under his breath, Dick slips off in the direction of the den.

"Crisis averted," Jason says, smiling before he presses his lips to Tim's brow. "If we're lucky, he'll be so distracted with those two that he'll forget that he's supposed to be harassing us." He glances down at Tim. "C'mon. Things won't be so bad."

***

Surprisingly, everyone behaves themselves during lunch.

It's afterwards, when they break up into their own little groups and move to the den in preparation for some quiet time together, where things get a little awkward.

It's weird, being separated into couples and then everyone else. It's Bruce-and-Dick helping Alfred portion out leftovers, Cass-and-Steph getting ready to go out to a movie with Barbara-and-Alysia, and now – Tim is apparently part of a couple even though it's been less than twenty-four hours since his first kiss with Jason. It doesn't feel like he's at Damian's level any more, recently presented and too young for a serious relationship.

"This is weird," Jason mutters, unconsciously echoing Tim's thoughts. "I guess we've graduated from the kiddie table, huh?"

From the beanbag chair positioned at the perfect angle to watch television without getting rays of sunlight straight in the face, Damian tilts his head back and directs an upside-down sneer in their direction.

"I can hear you," Damian points out in an aggrieved tone. "You two've been together for a day. _Puh-lease_. Don't let it get to your head."

Tim shakes his head. "Damian –"

"I mean it," Damian says, a little louder. There's a sullen note to his voice and an introspective look on the teenage alpha's face that clues Tim in immediately to his thoughts. "Dating and stuff isn't everything, you know?"

And considering that he's seen what happens when two take-charge alphas end up together, Damian _would_ know. In his own way, Damian is looking out for both of them. He might be a kid – and not for much longer at that – but he's always been more quietly protective of his pack than most people could notice without knowing him.

Tim nudges Jason with his elbow. "Hey –"

Jason blinks, nonplussed. "What?"

"Think you can get me something to drink?" Tim asks before dropping his voice in so low a tone that Damian can't hear them even If he strains his ears. "I want to talk to Damian about something, but I don't think that he'll open up as much if you're here."

It's not that Damian's relationship with Jason is fraught with any tension, but alphas of all genders are weird around each other in a way that betas and omegas aren't. The conversations that Damian would have in front of Bruce and Jason aren't the same ones that he'd have with anyone else in the house.

It has something about ill-timed aggression and embarrassment, but Tim can't remember the details of that particular research paper without referencing his phone. He nudges Jason one more time when the tall alpha just grunts and stares over his left shoulder, not even trying to look as if he's considering getting up off of the couch.

"Please?"

Jason huffs, but rises to his feet anyway.

As he passes, Tim reaches out and snags one of the beltloops in his pants.

"Thanks," Tim mouths before turning back to Damian. "Now, where were we?"

Damian's dark eyebrows draw together and when he eventually retorts, it's in a droll tone. "I'm assuming that you were about to give me some sorely unneeded advice…"

"Not exactly," Tim says, managing a faint smile. "I just wanted to tell you thanks."

"For _what_ ," Damian barks out.

"For worrying about me – and Jason." Tim knows better than to say anything like that where Jason can hear it. For one thing, he knows that Jason will be smug and too busy patting himself on the back to care about anything else. "I know that the relationship is new and that people break up, but –"

Damian's snorts sound so much like Jason's. It's uncanny.

"If you're planning on giving me 'the Talk', you're about ten years too late for that," Damian mutters. He shakes his head. "And besides – I'm not worrying about you. Not really, -- but" Damian's frown looks deep enough that his face might actually stick that way if he keeps it up for much longer. "I'm not jealous. At all. I just think – I don't understand why there's so much focus on everyone changing their relationships. Why does everything have to tie into our presentation?"

It's Tim's turn to blink his eyes rapidly. "Damian," he says, his voice laden with hesitation. "You do understand what biological imperatives are –"

He doesn't get to finish.

"Oh my god," Damian says with a roll of his dark blue eyes, appearing every inch the beleaguered teenager dealing with his definitely uncool family. "Can we not do this? I already told you that I get how sex works, _please_ don't go into details for me now."

Startled into laughter, Tim nearly falls off of the couch.

"That's not – I'm not trying to give you any kind of talk, Damian!" Tim says emphatically as he rakes his fingers through his short hair. "But I wanted to tell you that I kind of understood how you felt. When my dad was with Dana, it was so awkward because I kept expecting them to break up but they just kept getting closer and closer." A wry smile settles on Tim's face. "I think _Dana_ was actually the one to sit me down and tell me that she was in for the long haul. Sometimes it helps when people tell you these things even if you're too worried to ask."

Damian's mouth twists in a half-smile that quickly fades. He tilts his chin up, glancing over Tim's head. To Tim's perception, everything about his posture changes in the blink of an eye until he's a little less relaxed and a milder version of his previous frown has returned to his face.

"I brought you a glass of lemonade," Jason says as he comes around the right side of the couch. "Cass made it so it's probably too sweet, but it's the only thing I could grab without going past those two perverts so you'll just have to suffer."

There's a moment where Tim thinks to ask for more information but then he hesitates. No. Some things, Tim just doesn't want to know. He takes the glass from Jason's hands and then leans in against the warmth of Jason's body.

"So," Jason says to Damian as if none of the presentation-related tension exists, "What are you watching and how much can I bribe you to change it to something with exploding zombies?"

***

Later, after escaping from the Manor with nothing more serious than Dick threatening to "talk" with them the next time that they come over, Jason takes Tim home. He doesn’t make the same mistake as the night before, lingering next to Tim's building on his bike. This time, he walks Tim right to his door.

"You know, you didn't have to do that," Tim points out after he unlocks his door.

Shrugging, Jason sticks his hands in his pockets. "I know, but I wanted to," he says. "'sides, I wanted to talk to you before I left since I'm probably going to wind up on the other side of town tonight."

That's not worrying at all…

Tim forces himself not to frown. "What'd you want to talk about?"

"I heard what you said to Damian," Jason says.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"Nevermind that," Jason blusters. "It's just – you all but told him that you were making plans for the future – our future -- so I just want to know what we're doing. Is this official?"

Tim finds himself smirking.

"Yes, Jason. We're official," he says. "Feel free to change your status on all of your social media sites any minute now." Tim takes a step forward, taking the initiative, and then loops his arms around Jason's neck. He rocks up at the same time that he pulls Jason into him, mashing their mouths together in a kiss that would certainly sell a ton of issues for the _Gazette_ if they were on street level.

When the kiss breaks, Tim kind of _whimpers_ at the loss. He flattens one hand to Jason's chest right above his heart, mind entirely blank of anything aside from how easy it would be to get Jason inside his apartment.

The immediacy and intensity of that thought cuts through Tim's arousal like a knife. He squeezes his eyes shut and forces himself to imagine and remember all sorts of nasty things from his career as a vigilante and slightly unethical scientist until his erection subsides and his body stops threatening to pitch him headfirst into a false heat.

"We should go slower, okay?"

At Jason's almost-anguished groan, Tim nearly takes the statement back, but then he thinks better of it.

"When's your next night off?"

Jason scowls. "Next week Friday."

That's far.

Too far.

Tim wants to take things slow, but he's not _dead_.

"Never mind," he mutters. "Why don't you come over for dinner tomorrow and we'll head out for patrol together?" It'll be just like before, Tim thinks. A lot of good food, maybe a movie together, and now they'll have the added bonus of their newfound relationship to wade around. "I'll order something good."

Jason grins and dips his head enough that he can press a kiss to the very tip of Tim's nose. "You always do," he says. "We'll figure everything else out later."


	4. Chapter 4

_Three weeks later_

"Are you sure about this?" Jason asks as he watches Tim undo the buckle of his belt.

Tim scowls.

"It's been _three weeks_ , Jason," Tim bites out through clenched teeth. "Three of the busiest weeks we've had in Gotham in a long time. Do you know how much I just wanted to drag you off to Metropolis and keep you there for a few days?"

Tim isn't your average omega. It's different when he thinks it about himself. He's nothing like what average alphas expect in their future omega-spouses. He's prickly and downright mean at times. He's been told that he's too smart for his own good and bossy on top of that. And of course -- he can't cook and he doesn't want children any time soon.

But the thing about Jason -- and a little bit about putting together a not-so-new relationship and figuring out how much they can learn about each other before work or the Mission calls -- is that he doesn't care about that and it doesn't matter to him.

Sure, Jason's an alpha. He's an amazing alpha.

But he's nothing like what Tim has been expecting and he's so far from the boorish alphas that he's been forced to deal with all of his life. When Tim growls at Jason and only yanks his pants down his thighs, Jason's grin widens. His eyes darken with a desire so deep and so honest that Tim sways helplessly on his feet, body pumping out the kind of pheromones that usually only come out when he's in his heat.

"You know," Jason says in a teasing tone. "Abstinence only makes everything better."

Tim shakes his head.

"Don't even start with that, Jason," Tim warns. He's so on edge with lust for the broad-shouldered alpha in front of him that he can barely remember how that he has to _finish_ getting undressed before he can pounce -- or better still, let _Jason_ do the pouncing. "We've had three weeks of being good and busy. You even stayed away during my heat last week!"

"I didn't want our first time to be heatsex," Jason points out. He pauses to whip his t-shirt up and over his head, baring his strong chest and so many scars that are just asking to be licked and nipped. "I want you to remember the first time we have sex, Tim."

Tim kicks his pants to the far side of the room as Jason starts to work on his own pants. Fingers made clumsy by frustration and that frantic hunger riding him, it takes Tim a moment or two to respond. Eventually –

"That's why you need to hurry _up_!" Tim yanks free the buttons of his shirt, wishing the entire time that he'd thought to wear a t-shirt like Jason – or better yet, that his shirt had been in the closet and _not on his body_. A button or two goes flying, but Tim doesn't stop to consider where they fall.

He's so sick and tired of every single emergency in the world interrupting them. This time, nothing short of Darkseid himself crashing into Tim's apartment is going to get in the middle of them getting naked and so very busy in the bedroom for the next few days.

Jason growls, the sound almost _vibrating_ over Tim's skin. His eyes flash with hunger.

"You're so needy – _fuck_!"

Jason jerks his pants off and then moves to cage Tim in within his arms. Gone is any lingering hesitation, any anxiety about them doing what they're getting ready to do. Jason brackets Tim within the circle of his strong arms, hauling Tim close and pulling him into a hungry, searching kiss as if Tim isn't still wearing the hastily undone remnants of his shirt.

Tim can't stop moaning. He can't stop reaching for Jason's skin, fingers scrabbling over biceps that flex with the desire to move.

"'m not needy," Tim grumbles without much of an attempt to sound serious, tilting his head back in an obliging way so that Jason can nibble at the curve of his neck and nuzzle his way up to the gland tucked close to his right ear that is steadily pumping out pheromones.

Just the first brush of Jason's crooked nose against Tim's skin makes Tim jolt and jerk forward, his still-clothed cock nudging against Jason's strong thigh repeatedly.

It takes some effort, but Jason pulls back _just_ so that he can stare at Tim's flushed face.

" _You_? Not needy?" Jason retorts. He works a hand in between their bodies, fingers sliding over Tim's bare stomach down past the waistband of his boxer briefs where the light grey fabric is both tented out at the crotch and damp where the tip of his cock presses against the fabric. "You're so wet here, but if I'm reading this wrong and you're not wet anywhere else, maybe I should just –"

Tim's head knocks back against the wall of his bedroom with a hollow-sounding thunk. His ragged nails scratch over Jason's shoulders in a way that'll probably leave welts in their wake. In the moment, in the heat of their passion and hunger to _finally_ consummate their relationship the way they've wanted, Jason barely notices.

"Finish that sentence and you're _dead_ ," Tim hisses out through clenched teeth. He doesn't mean it. He _couldn't_ mean it. But it almost feels like he could kill Jason for keeping him on the edge like this. It's been _three weeks_. All Tim wants to do is feel Jason's mouth on his skin, Jason's hands on his hips, and his cock well –

In this, Tim can be predictable.

Tim bares his teeth but winds up biting back a helpless cry of desire as Jason's teeth catch at a particularly sensitive patch of skin at his throat. His knees threaten to go weak and send him toppling over, but Jason shifts and he's just – _there_.

"I want you," Tim says. He flushes, feeling heat stretch up from his neck to his cheeks. "I _need_ you. Jason, please –"

It's out there.

It's not as if Tim has spent the past three weeks on one case after another. They've managed to find time for one another. But all of the coffee dates in the world can't make up for this specific sort of closeness. They can't make up for how it feels to have Jason's teeth scraping over his neck or thumbing at the head of Tim's cock through his underwear.

"Soon," Jason says, his voice deep with lust as the scent of his arousal sharpens in the air around. He licks at Tim's throat in a way that should feel gross but only manages to make Tim's cock pulse with heat between them.

At the vibrations of Jason's voice rumbling around his skin, Tim wavers, his mouth watering. "There's a bed right there," he points out in as dry a tone as he can manage with the ache of desire stiffening his cock and making him trickle slick down his thighs. "Soon isn't fast enough."

"Bossy," Jason says lightly before he kisses Tim with a lingering brush of lips and a nipping bite of his teeth. When Jason pulls back, he's smiling. "I _like_ bossy."

***

Technically, Jason doesn't _have_ to carry Tim over to the bed. It _is_ right there.

But with his head awash with alpha instincts, all Jason wants to do is care for Tim. Even if his definition does lean a little to the carnal. He jerks Tim's underwear down and off before taking care of his own. Once they're both bare in Tim's oversized bed and surrounded by blankets that are heavy with Tim's scent, it's like a switch flicks in Jason's head.

"You smell amazing," Jason says, his voice heavy and nearly ravenous.

Tim pants, his mouth falling open as Jason slides a hand down between his spread thighs to nudge at his slick hole. The rub and nudge of those thick fingers skating over the rim of his clenching entrance drives the desire higher, fans the flames higher.

"Y-you too," Tim eventually manages to gasp out. "Jason – _oh_ –" Tim's fingers fist in the sheets when Jason's exploratory touch becomes an inward push that makes his nerves _sing_.

Jason presses a messy open-mouthed kiss to Tim's left thigh, just inches away from where his fingers rock in and out of Tim's body. The sound of those same fingers moving in Tim's body reaches up to Tim's ears with a squelching sound that makes Tim feel deliciously dirty every time he hears it.

"You like that, don't you?" Jason murmurs, sounding entirely too pleased with himself. He twists his fingers within Tim's body, working him open and then pulsing the tips of them over Tim's prostate when he catches it. He works Tim through the shudders that leave him panting and almost sobbing.

Tim shakes his head, hands releasing the sheets to cover his face as he writhes across the mattress. He feels so – so _naked_. It's ridiculous, Tim knows. He's had sex before. He's even had heatsex with an obliging alpha one weekend in California. But nothing has _ever_ felt like this before.

" _Jason_ ," Tim moans in a voice that hardly resembles his own. When he sucks in air, the taste on his tongue is Jason's. The scent in the air is the heavy musk of arousal and of their pheromones mingling and it just muddles Tim's senses.

For a moment, it feels like the world around them narrows down to just the two of them. To Tim and Jason in a bed with Jason's fingers right up Tim's ass. To Jason's mouth marking Tim in places where his suits and business casual outfits will cover.

Tim tries to push himself up onto his elbows, but then Jason turns his attention to the slick head of his cock and Tim falls backward onto the bed. The dual stimulation is almost too much and before long (seriously, an embarrassingly short period of time), Tim is beating at the bed with his left hand and reaching for Jason's too-short hair with his right.

"You want me to fuck you, babe?" Jason murmurs, the words barely audible around his mouthful of Tim's cock.

All Tim can do is grunt and try to stop himself from coming everywhere before they've even gotten to go past third base. He closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to _see_ Jason slurping at his cock and tonguing at the slit as if he's savoring a treat.

"I do," Tim confesses. His voice shakes. His body shudders. He's so close to an orgasm that a stiff breeze just might tip him over the edge if Jason's not careful. "I really do. C'mon, Jason. Quit teasing me."

So of course Jason pulls away from him.

Tim nearly screams.

"Relax," Jason says in a way that's supposed to be comfortable. "I'm just getting some stuff –"

"I just had my shot last month and you're the only person I've been with in –" Tim cuts himself off, suddenly unwilling to vocally admit to his very long sexual dry-spell. "It's good. We don't need anything. You can just fuck me."

Jason shakes his head. "I know you, baby," he says. "You're sex-drunk now but you're a neat freak. Just because something sounds sexy now or because you think your body can handle it, that doesn't mean you'll like the aftermath later."

It's such an unsexy conversation to have in the middle of having sex, but Tim supposes that it's a necessary one.

"Fine," he mutters. "But _then_ can we have sex?"

***

Jason's cock is the best in the world.

No, in the _multiverse_.

Maybe later, when Tim isn't drooling into his pillow as Jason hitches Tim's left leg over his side and screws into him even harder, he'll rethink that. (Probably not.) But for now, Tim's world is kind of set on revolving around the relentless press of Jason's fat cock pressing into his body in an inexorable slide that sets his nerves afire with wanting him.

"Jason – Jason – Jason!" Tim chats the – _his_ – alpha's name under his breath, his voice catching on crooning cries that leave him sounding wrecked when they join the chorus of noises caused by Jason's grunts in Tim's ear and the way that their sweat and slick-moistened bodies come together.

They get louder.

They move faster.

Jason fucks Tim as if he never wants to _stop_ and when he sets his teeth in the skin of Tim's neck and bites down hard enough to leave a mark, Tim gets it. He gets that that's what Jason wants. Shuddering, Tim tries to wrap his shaking fingers around the length of his erection but only gets swatted away for his trouble. Instead, Jason's fingers with their perfect calluses wrap around Tim's cock and he drags them along Tim's shaft in a slow stroke that has Tim's toes curling.

But that doesn't make Tim come.

What does it is that first feeling of pressure, the almost-pain of Jason's knot starting to expand inside of him as Jason works his hips harder and then – with a gusty sigh that makes Tim flush even further – he starts to come. The knot pulls a little bit, uncomfortable at first before it swells enough to nudge at his prostate and the world around them turns white as Tim comes.

And comes.

And then slumps onto his side, trying to remember how to breathe as Jason's arms tighten around his body as he brushes a kiss against the well-loved curve of his throat.

Tim doesn't know why they didn't do that sooner. Why they didn't do any of this sooner ---

***

Later, after they've untied and dozed off with semen, sweat, and Tim's slick drying on their skin, Tim wakes up with Jason's lips pressed against his own. He's sticky and aching from his neck down to his well-used ass (and he's going to need like three showers to take care of it), but it's worth it. So worth it.

"You're a deep sleeper," Jason says with awe in his voice.

Tim shakes his head. "Only around you," he admits. "One time, Steph snuck up on me when I was napping in the cave and I got up so fast that fell off of the cot and wound up with a concussion." Tim shakes his head. "You're different. You're –"

 _Tim's_.

Tim doesn't finish his sentence, but there's a knowing look on Jason's face that all but screams 'Message Received' at him. Ducking his head, Tim tries to get control of his blushing.

"You don't have to look so smug," Tim mutters eventually.

It doesn't help.

If anything, Jason only gets worse.

"I can't help it," Jason says as he presses close on the bed until they're hip to hip on sheets that could use a thorough cleaning. "You're cute when you're sappy."

Tim scowls. "I can still kick you out at any time," he threatens. "It's still my apartment."

Unbothered by the faint snap to Tim's tone, Jason only smiles harder and leans down to steal another kiss. When he pulls back, Tim's mouth hangs open and his cock twitches with renewed interest.

"Is this any way to speak to the alpha that made you breakfast?"

Tim shakes his head. "Delivery doesn't count," he parries.

"Keep telling yourself that, babe," Jason drawls. He swings his legs off the side of the bed and then stands up, towering over Tim for an instant before he reaches out and pulls Tim right off the bed. "Now, I know your shower is big enough for two people. Come on. We could both use a shower."


End file.
